


Too Hot, Too Cold

by FluffyGlitterPantsDragon



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Ficlet, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Nudity, Season/Series 05, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22847533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyGlitterPantsDragon/pseuds/FluffyGlitterPantsDragon
Summary: What my brain seems to want to happen for the opening of Season 5.Dont blame me, blame my muse.
Relationships: Dan Espinoza/Ella Lopez
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Too Hot, Too Cold

Lucifer landed on his balcony in the pre-dawn. There was no reason not to- unless a decade had passed, the penthouse was still his home. He didn't think it had been that long, but _bloody Hell_ he needed to find his phone. He hoped someone had left it charging. 

First things first, however. He brushed ash off his shoulder as he stood up straight and took a deep breath of night air. This high over LA, the atmosphere stayed mostly smog-free, especially when traffic down on the street thinned out. Coming out of Hell was always a little disorienting. Stepping into the much cooler air and electric lighting soothed him almost instantly.

_Home_.

Discarding his suit coat outside - it was well ruined anyway, impossible to get the smell out - he walked inside, toeing off his (also ruined) once-red-soled designer shoes.

The smells of his penthouse that filled his nose washed over him like a spring day - welcoming him home. Someone had thoughtfully covered his furniture in sheets to keep the dust off, but his _books -_ there simply was no mistaking the scent of a roomful of books. He took a long inhale here too, mentally listing off each item of his precious collection as every distinct volume came to him. 

He counted them as he strolled lazily to the bar- one does not ever _stroll_ in Hell and it had been decades. His histories and fiction, many books by Dumas, some of which were original prints. It took a lot of protective wrapping to bring something so delicate into or out of Hell. This time, he had found one of his old stashes and took the opportunity to grab a few books wrapped in waxed parchment. He dared not open them for a few days - and definitely didn't unwrap them in Hell either. His labeling had worn off, so he looked forward to surprising himself. He set the set of protected treasures on the bar, letting his hand rest on them fondly.

Glancing up at his rows of shelves, he spotted the handful bibles in his collection, wedged directly next to a _Kama Sutra_ , Koran, and a scroll Torah. Just to fuck with choice visitors.

He found a pack of cigarettes on the bar - not his preferred brand, but beggars and choosers. The Detective didn't smoke, and he didn't know of anyone close to him who did. Perhaps she picked up the habit while he was gone? He could picture it, trying one of his and blowing smoke out over the city by the railing. 

He ignored the brand and lit one, poured himself a drink and taking his third deep and lingering appreciative breath of not-Hell. He pressed the glass edge to his lips, sipping it and nearly spiting it back out. 

_Tequila??_

_Dear Dad._

Granted, it definitely wasn't _his_ , but someone had put mid-shelf tequila in _his_ brandy bottle. _Heathens_.

He looked around, his wings shaking off a bit more ash as he turned in a circle. Everything else _seemed_ to be in place. He grabbed a bottle of _his_ whiskey, opened it and drank straight from it.

Much better.

There was a tinge of something else in the air. 

_Sex?_

Raising an eyebrow, he looked around again. The sheet couch cover was in place, perhaps a bit rumpled. Peeking around the corner, it became evident that _someone_ had been rooting around in his sex toy drawer. 

Well. Not that he wasn't one to share. 

But.

There was someone sleeping in his bed.

He smiled to himself, noting the oversized white shirt, and a cute round butt just visible as she lay on top of the covers. It was dark inside with the lights turned low for sleeping humans, the scene here reminding him fondly of that night he gifted the Detective her birthday present. His shirt covered her hands adorably.

He doubted she wanted anyone to discover her this way, practically bare to the world. He smiled and lifted the edge of the sheet, about to drag it over her elegant legs. He hesitated, realizing something was off. The woman's hair was dark. 

The toilet in the powder room flushed.

Ella snuggled against the sheets, humming to herself and slowly opening her eyes to see him looming next to the bed, in the shadows. 

She gasped, pulling the sheet up to her chin, hiding her gold cross she always wore around her neck. "Lucifer!!" 

Daniel appeared, running out of the bathroom, stark naked.

Oh dear.

Dan snatched a pillow off the bed and pressed it to his hips to cover himself. He didn't scream, but he did look past Lucifer's shoulders. "Dude!"

Ella's eyes got huge. Her arm came up, reaching out to touch him. "Oh my God."

"Still nope." How long had it been? "I guess this explains the cigs and awful booze in _my decanter_." Well, he had never been one to not take advantage of a situation. He started undoing his buttons. "I do need a shower first, but I'm always up for a Devil's threesome if you are."

Ella clutched the sheet tightly, her outward hand closing to point at him. "No, you have wings!"

He dropped his hands, twisting to look at them. "Bugger."

( _Waa-aahhh-aaah-hh - Roll intro credits_ ) 

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I think my brain just wants more naked Dan.


End file.
